Espresso for the Depresso
by Raven Blanchard
Summary: "What's it like?" she asks. The man picks up his coffee and spares her a glance, brows raised. "What's what like?" "Having the same name as Iron Man." [In which a café owner remembers MCU from her previous life, and has absolutely no idea that superheroes now exist... until she brews a triple espresso for some 'cosplayer' named Tony Stark.) SI/OC insert
1. Prologue

BLURB: "What's it like?" she asks. The man picks up his coffee and spares her a glance, brows raised. "What's _what_ like?" "Having the same name as Iron Man." [In which a café owner remembers MCU from her previous life, and has absolutely no idea that superheroes now exist... until she brews a triple espresso for some 'cosplayer' named Tony Stark.) SI/OC insert

ooOoo

 **PROLOGUE**

A few facts about the young owner of Café Renata:

Shannon Gates can't fly. She can't summon thunder or lightning, can't bend metal with her bare hands or with her mind, can't read minds or warp reality. She can't even throw a proper punch with her "noodle arms." She doesn't have any superpower. She doesn't have that many talents either. What she does have, however, is the ungodly ability to brew the perfect cup of coffee. This is irrelevant, of course, and has been for twenty-eight years, until one fateful day, on a particularly mind-breaking holy-shit moment.

In retrospect, it seems quite unrealistic of her to not know the truth for so long. Despite her relatively keen mind and imagination, it just never occurred to her that when kids or teenagers or _adults_ talked about Captain America or Iron Man or Spider Man within earshot, that they weren't talking about fictional characters at all. Because seriously, what sane person would think _that_?

Café Renata is a small, quaint establishment in Queens. It opens at 8 in the morning and closes at 10 in the evening, and serves a wide variety of beverages ranging from pinky-lifting teas to the darkest roasts of coffee. The food menu rotates and mutates every now and again, depending on what Shannon wants to put in it, but the overall concensus from the customers is that it tastes good. The drinks are the main selling point though, or so Shannon hears. The seats in Café Renata are ergonomic and a bit rustic, classy but not too impersonal, and the floor a soft brown granite. In short, the Renata may be small, but she is the most beautiful of all cafés of her size. Shannon loves it to pieces like a mother would her own child.

7:00 PM. It is a normal evening, as evenings usually are.

Shannon has just brewed a triple espresso -- black and bitter like the devil's heart, she doesn't trust her newer baristas to make it the way this particular costumer wants -- and is about to serve it to a guy in an Iron Man costume. Tony. He's a regular, has been a customer for about five months, and is apparently an avid cosplayer. Nearly half the time she sees him he's in costume, and the other half he's in button-up shirts and near perfect corduroys. Sometimes he wears Iron Man themed muscle shirts that have glowy things at the chest, which is pretty cool. Man must really be a big Iron Man fan, Shannon thinks, which is quite hilarious, as he really closely resembles the character. He's no RDJ, but he has the facial hair and skin tone right. The people in the café quiet down upon seeing him, and some even ask to have pictures with him, something she's used to seeing around cosplayers with amazing costumes. Heck, she'd ask for a selfie with him too, were it not completely unprofessional to ask.

She can snark at and tease her regulars all she wants as they seem to expect it of her anyway, but she draws the line on taking pictures with them.

She swipes his credit card and gives him his drink. Thinks of tossing in a bagel, on the house. Like always, it looks like he sorely needs the caffeine and the sustenance.

"Tough day at work?"

His head snaps up. Wow. Must've been hell at his job, if he's not being his usual flirty self. "What?"

"I don't mean the _costume_ , Tony." She shrugs. "The whole Iron Man thing can't be your actual job. Pay would probably suck, for one. Not that you've ever seemed broke to me."

"I don't know. With how much time it takes to do 'the whole Iron Man thing,' it kind of seems like a job to me too."

She rolls her eyes at that. "Your _paying_ job, Tony. I was talking about the job that actually earns you money. How was it? Torture? Hell on earth?"

"...You have no idea," Tony sighs, then smiles self-deprecatingly. "Is it that obvious?"

Shannon ponders that. "Not really, but I know a stressed person when I see one. Anyway, I'll be tossing in a bagel. ... On the house, Tony. You look like you need it."

"Mother hen."

"Can't be. I'm a virgin."

His face then bursts into a grin. "Is that a challenge I hear?"

She scoffs at that. "As if. I'm not suicidal. I've met your girlfriend, you know."

"Oh?"

"Oh yeah. Fierce redhead, pretty as all hell, big mystery what she sees in _you_ ," She snarks, but softens the blow with a teasing smile. "Biggest mystery of the universe, really."

"Not as big a mystery as how you brew this coffee," he mutters, takes a sip of coffee, and sighs almost obscenely. "Any chance you'd work for me? Pay's good, and I'm sure my adorable secretary could use some help. And some of this glorious ambrosia. We could all do with some liquid awesome."

Shannon can't help but roll her eyes at that. "...It's just coffee, Tony. Good coffee, but it can't be that good."

He gasps, grabs his cup closer to his chest and turns to it. "Don't listen to her filth, Coffee dear! You'll always be the best to me!"

...Uh, what.

Well, whatever. Shannon has reached a previously unknown threshold of _done_ when it comes to Tony, and just shrugs. "... Right. Anyway, thanks for the compliment and the job offer and all, but I can't exactly leave the Renata, since, you know, I own it."

"You can own it while working for me, Shannon dear. You just have to use this amazing ability called _multitasking_. I'm a keen practitioner myself, could give you some tips. For a price, of course," he adds with a waggle of this eyebrows.

"... Ew. You're like, a senior citizen or something."

" _Senior citizen_?!" Tony very nearly shrieks, looking appropriately scandalized. "I'll have you know that I have just entered my prime!"

"Okay. You sure you can handle doing so much at your age, gramps? The costuming around, and the whatever the hell you have as your day job. Just two tasks, and you already look like crap on a daily basis."

"Oh, ouch!" He makes an exaggerated grabbing motion at his chest, a pout on his face. Well. Looks like he's recovered enough. Maybe she can take the bagel back?

"You're a real riot." She deadpans. "A total comedian."

"A comedian, playboy, billionaire, and philantropist. A _young_ comedian, playboy, billionaire and philantropist. Among many other things. 'Multi-talented' is my middle name." He finishes with a wink. Is this what people call 'role playing'? He was acting remarkably Iron Man -ish. Before Shannon could figure out how to respond, Tony's phone rings. He throws a quick glance at it, before sighing and seeming to sink back into his previous gloomy mood. "I should go. Paperwork to murder, suits to tinker with, multitasking like young men usually do, you know how it is."

... Hold on.

"What's it like?" She suddenly asks. She didn't really want to in the beginning, back when she first saw his real name on the receipt all those months ago. Credit card info doesn't reveal much, but it does show its owner's name.

 _Anthony Stark_

And wasn't that a laugh and a half? She doesn't want to be rude to Tony-the-cosplaying-guy, but it's been bugging her something fierce for so long. Surely she wasn't the only one who finds the coincidence weird/funny?

Tony picks up his coffee and spares her a glance, brows raised. "What's _what_ like?"

She thinks about how to phrase it. "Having the same name as Iron Man."

She waits for him to laugh in good humor. Waits for a story of how having a comic book character's name must have made his life utter hell as a kid. Waits for the anger or annoyance that wouldn't have been out of place in a man who must've heard that question a million times before.

But she definitely does not expect him to give a slow smile, thank her for the coffee, put on his helmet, walk out of the café and FUCKING FLY AWAY HOLY SHIT!

ooOoo

 **Or: In Which Shannon's Brain Bluescreens.** **Tell me what you think!**


	2. Steve

**STEVE ROGERS**

All things considered, Steve rather thinks that Stark had the right of it when he said that Café Renata is a fine place to take a break while suited up, as much as Steve hates to admit that Tony Stark is right about anything at all. The café has a low ceiling, an air of a cozy sort of intimacy, softly buffed and comfortable wooden furniture, seats that are strategically placed to provide some privacy, and all the nice scents that Steve associates with rainy Saturday mornings with his 'ma. It has none of the cold and nearly clinical consumerist-chic style that seems so prevalent nowadays, something he's immensely glad for. Going by the mouthwatering scent of pastries, perhaps they even have amazing food, which of course is never a bad thing.

 _Apple pie!!!_ He mentally squeals as he sees his server approach.

"Lemme guess," the woman drawls as she serves him a plate of steaming apple pie and a tall glass of Renata's iced tea, "You're not just a cosplayer either, are you?"

Steve tears his gaze away from his pie, and stares at the woman in confusion. "A _cosplayer_ , ma'am?"

He wonders if that's some sort of newfangled job. _Cosplayer_. Steve can never tell anymore, what with there being jobs such as _programmers_ and _drone-pilots_ now and whatnot. What are _drones_ , even? Some sort of preacher that drones on and bores people? And why would one need a pilot?

Not for the first time, or even the hundredth, Steve wishes he can get drunk.

The woman audibly groans upon seeing his lost expression, which might be a cross between confused and constipated. If Stark is to be believed, that is. Which he obviously _isn't_ , most of the time.

"Wow," she mumurs with a shake of her head. "You really don't know your pop culture references. That's cute, but I was seriously hoping that last night was all just one big fever dream or something. Granted, you could be role-playing, or just flat-out shitting me, but I'd hate to be the one idiot gaping at the sight of a _flying superhero_ because she pays attention to absolutely _nothing_ for twenty-eight years. So uncool."

"...What?"

"Oh, crap," she jerks. "You're one of the flightless ones, right? Or are you? Sorry, it's just... you and Clark Kent, I swear. Totally interchangeable personalities. I swear you could be interspecies twins or something."

"Beg pardon, ma'am," he says slowly, "But what the devil are you on about?"

 _And who is Clark Kent?_

She jerks back and purses her lips to a fine line. "Nothing. Nothing at all. You know what? Ignore everything I just said. Enjoy your American pie... wait, that sounded weird. I meant your Captain apple... your American apple... Oh, damn it, just enjoy the food Mr. Not-Cosplayer, and welcome to my humble little café. And please tell Tony Stark that he's an ass, and I'm banning him for a week."

With that, she turns around and leaves.

... _What_

ooOoo

 **A/N: Sorry for the short update! I'm about 1/3 along my 2-month review for the medical boards, and I should really be studying right nOW HOLY CRAP**

 **Anyway, tell me what you think!**


	3. Young Women

**YOUNG WOMEN**

It's official. Shannon Gates, young owner of the well-loved Café Renata, self-made careerwoman and self-proclaimed perfectionist, is a damned idiot.

This is through no fault of her own, of course!

...Or so she would say over and over until she finally convinces absolutely _nobody_ of the claim. But who the fuck would have thought that Tony Stark was Iron Man?

Wait, no, that still sounds stupid. _Everybody_ knows that Tony Stark is Iron Man. It's a fact of life. _Both_ lives. Heck, even Shannon knows it... and _knew_ it. The sun shines every morning, shit comes out of assholes (in more ways than one), the government is a colossal waste of... of _everything_ , and Tony Stark is Iron Man, who exists in real life now. Apparently.

Ugh. She had to update her entire perception of the world by looking so much shit up on the internet. It was _tedious_.

She makes eye contact with Heidi Bowen, her friend from college, who is seated by the window, daintily sipping on her favorite drink: iced jasmine tea with mint and a generous dollop of honey. Heidi just frowns at her in confusion, and types something on her phone.

Shannon's own phone inevitably beeps soon after.

 _ **7:20 PM**_  
 _ **Sup? U look like u gotta shit/smth.**_

Shannon sighs and types out a reply:

 _ **7:20 PM**_  
 _ **tony stark is apparently a renata regular. things u discover every day i guess.**_

Heidi's eyes widen much like the emoji she soon sends her.

 _ **7:21 PM**_  
 _ **0_0 4 real? hasnt he bn buying coffee here since like 10M yrs ago? nd in his ironman suit too!**_  
 _ **!**_

 _ **7:22 PM**_  
 _ **thought he was some cosplayer.**_

 _ **7:22PM**_  
 _ **w the same name?! :o**_  
 _ **u need srs help**_ _ **girl**_

 _ **7:23PM**_  
 _ **i knowwww. kill me now.**_  
 _ **/wrists**_

 _ **7:23PM**_  
 _ **lol! wer u at wen d super random alien invasion hapnd here? in zimbabwe?!**_

 _ **7:23PM**_  
 _ **at my mom's. seattle.**_

She could hear Heidi's unbidden chuckle from all the way at the counter. The two old-timer regulars in the café, Martha and Stewart (alright, Shannon would admit she _laughed_ when she first heard their names, but since Martha Stewart doesn't exist in this world, all Shannon succeeded in doing was looking like an absolute ass) just glanced at the woman and shrugged, before proceeding to mind their own business. What amazing people.

Heidi's reply comes a moment later:

 ** _7:24PM_**  
 ** _n u hve no tv there?!_**

 ** _7:24PM_**  
 ** _shut up. i thought it was a random movie trailer or whatev._**

 ** _7:25PM_**  
 ** _wht abt wen u got back?_**

 ** _7:25PM_**  
 ** _surprise renovations and construction sites dont exactly scream ALIEN INVASION, u know._**

"This is fucking hilarious!" Heidi all but guffaws at her phone. Shannon glares at her, before begrudgingly approaching her table before the idiot shouts about what it was exactly they were talking about, because holy shit, if that happens then Shannon would just crawl into a hole and fucking _die_.

"Tone it down, would you?" she hisses. "You're not in McDonald's."

Heidi's megaphone-loud laughter ebbs away at that. "Sorry. But wow. Shit. How could you _not_ recognize _Tony Stark_?"

"I don't know, by not knowing what he looks like in the first place?"

"But he like, owns half of the known world."

Shannon rolls her eyes. "Don't exaggerate." Then she thinks about it. "One-fourth, at most."

"Ha. Whatever. Really though, how does that noggin of yours work?"

"My noggin works just fine, Heids. I just don't follow the news too much." Or, like, _ever_. Apparently. Since it took her nearly three damned _decades_ to figure out that she's in a world with... with superheroes! "Anything that really matters, people everywhere around me will talk about. Everything else is just a waste of my time. And by the time I got back here from Seattle, people weren't yelling about it anymore."

Well, they kind of still were, to a lesser extent, but then they were also gossiping about Captain America and The Hulk and whatnot. Even Martha and Stewart, both in their seventies, talked about comicbook heroes like they actually _existed_. Shannon just figured they were on a hardcore acid trip or something. Something catching.

Heidi just grins at her. The kind of grin that makes Shannon regret being friends with her in the first place. Every time. "So what did he say?"

"Say? He didn't _say_ anything. He fucking flew! I almost had a heart attack!"

Heidi's laughter haunts her for days. Luckily, Tony Stark is still banned from Café Renata, and thus doesn't get to hear their conversation, or Shannon would shrivel out of mortification.

A few hours later, in a retirement home, Martha Hogan serves a scrumptious stroganoff dish to her grandson's friend and then sternly frowns at him. "I heard you were quite rude to that young lady at the café the other day, Anthony."

" _Young lady_?" Her grandson parrots blankly. He glances at his friend, then stares back at Martha. "What young lady, Grams?"

"Café?" Tony Stark, Happy Hogan's friend, asks, confusion writ on his face. Because he's spoken to a lot of women in a lot of cafés over the past couple of days. Nothing sinister, mind, since Pepper would roast his bits otherwise, but harmless flirtation never hurt anybody, in Tony's opinion.

"Café Renata," Martha supplies. "The one in Queens, near the-"

"I know where it is," Tony interrupts. Quite rudely, if Martha were to say so herself. "Ah! Do you mean Shannon Gates, the owner?"

Happy glares at him over the table. "Does Pepper know about this 'young lady'?"

Martha nods at Tony. "Yes. Young Sharon. She said you scared her half to death!"

Tony snorts. "She said _that_? She actually said that? ...I can't imagine it."

"Seriously Tony, does Pepper know about this woman?" Happy questions with a frown. Happy may have already broken up with Pepper Potts, but he was still protective over her. In a totally _platonic_ way!

Tony finally turns to Happy. "Of course she does! Considering she's the one that introduced us." He lets out an almost lovelorn sigh. "And that amazing, delicious, otherworldly coffee..."

"Don't you get distracted on me, young man!" Martha scolds. "It's rude! And it's also rude to give people scares! What if she had a heart attack?"

"She's not even thirty," Tony deadpans. "Who gets heart attacks becore thirty?"

"I'm sure there are some people. You kids these days, you eat anything greasy. Anyway, I better not hear about you scaring your friends, young man. You might be Iron Man, but I can still give you a good swat with my ladle!" She then takes a swing at his head.

Tony quickly evades the utensil. "But she didn't know who I was, Martha! Well, she did, but not really. Anyway, she was asking for it! Ow! She was!"

Happy sighs. How Tony could be a genius and an idiot simultaneously, he'll never know.

ooOoo

 **A/N: Here it is. It took a while (coughFOREVERcough) but it's finally here. An update! Ta-daaa! I'm planning to do another MCU character's POV in the next chapter, so drop a review and tell me who you want it to be!**

 **Anyway. The Happy-Pepper pairing is totally canon. Maybe not MCU canon, but definitely comic canon. They divorced, but they were still a thing in the past. Integrating that little tidbit into my fic because the Happy-Pepper past wasn't explicitly denied in the MCU, so it could still apply. ...Right?**


	4. Spiderkid

**SPIDERKID**

Shannon knew the kid hated being called "Peterpatter", but it was what she called him when she found him at the Pacific Science Center in Seattle, a well-dressed four-year-old boy lost and confused amidst a sea of nerds and parents and kids and teenage couples.

It was what she called him after he introduced himself. Kid was haughty as heck and all "my dad is this" and "my mom is that" and "you better do this or else," and shit, but her mom must've found a hot new piece of ass or something because the woman up and pulled a friggin Houdini on her, so at the time, Shannon was so _not_ in the mood for bratty toddler bullshit. She decided to call the brat Peterpatter and be done with it.

It was what she called him every time she came by to check up on him, because he lived nearby, because Richard and Mary were entirely too busy to take care of their own son, and his nanny was equally as neglectful.

It was what she called the kid when he refused to get out from under his bed because it's been over _two days_ and his parents _weren't home_ and wow, wasn't that just #horribleparenting or what?

It was what she called him when he broke down a month or two after, all alone in that large, hollow, overly ornate house that everyone in the neighborhood _knew_ Richard Parker secretly hated and only tolerated for his lovely wife.

It was what Shannon called the kid when Richard's boss, a weird man with an eyepatch named Nicholas Joseph, arrived at the manor with a haggard-looking couple in tow: Ben and his wife May, Ben being the kid's closest living kin.

And when she found out that the couple that took him in lived right across the street from her house in Queens, well, the name just settled and stuck. _Peterpatter_.

And _goodness_ , Shannon should have _really_ known by then, shouldn't she? In retrospect, her ignorance was quite _incredibly_ dumb given all the hints around her throughout her life, and it only keeps getting dumber with each remembrance, but really, again, for the millionth time, how was she to have _known_ that fictional shit was actually real?

Anyway, the kid was Peterpatter, quite possibly _the_ Peter Parker, but the whole superhero thing was just too crazy to comprehend, so Shannon just Repressed the shit out of the whole MISTER STARK I DON'T FEEL SO GOOD

Um.. yeah.

Kid's like a brother to her, so she just can't think... can't even _imagine_...

I'M SORRY... DONT FEEL SO GOOD... MISTER STARK... I DON'T WANNA GO... I'M SORRY... MISTER STARK I DON'T FEEL SO GOOD... DON'T WANNA GO...

"What's that you're doing, kid?" her mouth blurts out as she absently sits beside Peter. Peterpatter. He's working on little bits and bobs that seem connected to form a mutant wrist watch of some sort.

Renata's having one of her off days, but considering how Tony Stark's house just got _bombed_ , and that it was an internet-known fact that Tony Stark was at Cafe Renata almost daily, Shannon figured people just suddenly got terrified of Renata by association.

Whatever. The guy was part-human, part-OF THE JOURNEY IS THE END-

...part-unkillable weed. Yeah. Emphasis on _unkillable_.

"It's a um... wrist shooter," the kid says, cutting off her thoughts. "Kind of like in those spy movies."

"...Right. And what would you use that for?"

"Um, it's for shooting... _gunk_ at people that annoy me?"

"Shooting _gunk_ at people," she repeats slowly. Well, there are easier and more... pleasurable ways to shoot gunk at people, but she's never going to say such a thing to a _kid_ , of all people.

...Oh man, she so needed to get laid.

It's been nearly three decades!

Kid blushes bright red like a stoplight. "Well, not _gunk_ , really, but just some fluid I made. It's white and real sticky, and-"

"Woah kid, stop it right there. Don't go talking to me about your white sticky stuff. I've known you since you were, like, four."

"I don't mean THAT stuff!" He all but screams at her, his face almost purple with pure mortification. "I'd never talk to you about that stuff anyway!"

"Right. Of course. ...But you do talk about it, right? I mean this in a purely concerned-sibling way, but sometimes you gotta let it out. I mean, not _literally_ , but... well, also literally, if you catch my drift."

He then proceeds to deflate. "No. I don't catch anything. I suck at catching. I'm also done with this line of conversation. Get it, Shannon? DONE."

"Fine. Sheesh. Ruin my fun, why don't you? It's not like I've been recently made to look like a complete idiot by Tony Friggin Stark, you know. Not like I need a little pick-me-up." At his stony expression Shannon finally decides to let up on her teasing. "Alright, alright. Why do you want to shoot your white sticky fluid at people anyway?"

"It's just... Teenagers are an annoying species as a whole, you know."

"You're _fifteen_ ," she deadpans. "And therefore a teenager yourself... I think. Unless you're actually twelve? You could be twelve. You look young enough."

"I'm _fifteen_! Fifteen _and ten months_ , thank you very much!" He cries out in a voice that mysteriously always seems to crack when he yells at her. Which is frankly adorable, by the way. "I'm almost at the age of consent in... in Washington!"

That was... oddly specific. "You wanna get it on with a girl from there or something?"

"I... no, it's just..." He waves his contraption around for emphasis, "I just mean that I'm not a kid, okay? Not anymore. So stop calling me 'kid', okay?"

It's a simple enough request, she thinks. "No problem, Peterpatter."

He throws a napkin at her, the blush fading from his cheeks. "You're mean."

"Tony Stark is meaner. Frankly, I don't get why you idolize Iron Man so much. I mean, yeah, he's likeable enough, funny, but when he's being an ass he always takes extra care to be the biggest one in the room."

"Call it a character flaw," a voice drawls behind her, and Shannon all but freezes. "One of my very few flaws. I always go by the saying, _go big or go home_."

 _I wish you'd just go home right fucking now,_ Shannon thinks uncharitably with a growl, turning to face Tony Stark.

"What?" He asks with a winsome smile. "It's been a week. Ban's lifted!"

"Mr. Stark!" Peter's voice once again cracks beside her.

Oh boy.

ooOoo

 **A/N: Endgame was INSANE! Like holy shit, my two favorite Avengers friggin kicked it, and now I'm left reeling even after all this time because MY TWO FAVORITE SNARKY AVENGERS FRIGGIN KICKED IT! I wrote this under the influence... of ice cream. Because that shit was depressing enough to warrant comfort food, and I needed the pint of Double Dutch, damn it all.**

 **I probably have like ten million typos here, but eh, I typed this on my phone, so there.**


End file.
